Some Love Story
by NavyStrong42099
Summary: The summer's over and it's time to get back to the normal routine of OSP- except it's anything but routine. With Hetty still in Washington, Kensi, Deeks, Sam, and Callen must hold their own during operations. When Kensi and Deeks are taken during their most recent case, both come to terms with the fact that they might not get the chance to further put off their thing. Season Six.
1. Taken

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everybody! Thank you for reading Some Love Story, my traditional post-finale fic. Although this one won't go into the details of the events of "Deep Trouble", it is set in season six. As always, my penname, NavyStrong42099 is dedicated to my brother. Feedback is appreciated- even if it's criticism!**

**-C**

Kensi Blye sat at her computer, scanning through photographs at the speed of light. She was alone in the Spanish mission that housed the Office of Special Projects on that Monday morning, but it was no wonder. The summer was just drawing a close and most people were either returning from vacations or leaving for them. Not even a phone disturbed the still air. She was positive that Sam and Callen would walk in, chattering about the newest island they had visited or checked one more place off the list of everywhere that a James Bond movie was filmed.

And maybe last summer she would have joined them. Not this one.

Looking back, Kensi almost wished that she had accepted Deeks's offer to go camping in Yosemite for a few days. Maybe they would have actually gotten the chance to talk about everything that had happened away from a working environment. She was still so confused about everything.

So ultimately that was the reason for not talking as much during their break. Things were left off in a bad place with Talia, and their prominent inability to communicate only made matters worse.

Looking back at old photos taken with Deeks sent a throbbing pain through Kensi's chest. Heartache. She was so damn tired of getting that all the time.

At last the sound of clicking boots echoed in the tunnel from the entrance. Perking up, the brunette peered from her seat to see who it was. Instead of finding a mop of blond hair, she spotted a much shorter figure with a bob of brown.

"Kens!" Nell greeted with a broad smile. "You're here a bit early for the first day back."

She shrugged. "I didn't really go anywhere to be back from."

The intelligence analyst pursed her lips. "Something you want to talk about?"

Kensi shot her a look.

"Right," she remarked with a knowing glance. After all, her friend knew how Kensi loved opening up about her feelings. Nell plopped down in Callen's chair while exhaling deeply. "Is this about Deeks or Afghanistan?"

Kensi slammed her laptop shut and said, "A little of both, I guess. Afghanistan is part of it, but it's mostly Deeks."

"You know, Kensi, it would help just to get away from work a little while and sort things out yourselves. The last thing you need is more pressure."

The brunette shot a glance over at Hetty's desk, contempt filling her mismatched eyes. "She's still not back from D.C., is she?"

"There's a lot of people to answer to," Nell remarked. "You know how slow things are vetted over in Afghanistan. And they need to track down those involved. Granger says it might be another week at most."

"Until she comes back?"

"Until we know," she corrected Kensi.

"Right," the brunette tapped her pen several times against her laptop. "So, how was your summer?"

Nell blushed, "Oh well, I guess since we've having a girl talk I should tell you. I-"

"What are you doing in my desk?" A voice broke the silence good-naturedly.

Both of the females jumped a little and found Callen leaning the archway expectantly. He was a little tanner than usual, and Kensi got the inkling that most of his free time was spent with Joelle.

"Just…having girl talk," Nell winked. She shouldered her bag and rose out of the chair. "I'll see you guys later."

"See ya, Nell," Callen chuckled, taking her place.

The petite woman trotted up the stairs and disappeared into ops. With Callen's arrival, more and more agents began flooding the operations center chatting excitedly. Glumly, Kensi began tearing through some old paperwork, trying to decide what could be recycled and what had to be kept. Callen constantly checking his phone and smiling was helping Kensi's mood either.

"How was your vacation?" Callen finally questioned, shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Hmm?" Kensi replied, not looking up from the report she was scanning.

"That bad huh?"

The brunette rolled her eyes and mumbled something about needing more coffee. She quickly avoided the situation by running towards the miniature kitchen in the back. Kensi nodded a greeting at another one of their techs and began the brewing process. Something caught her attention, and she turned to see Eric and Nell up on one of the balconies, standing awfully close to one another. It would have normally brought a smile to her face, but it just sent another stab of pain through her chest. So that's what Nell wanted to talk about.

God, why did she have to be so jealous of everyone?

There were countless women over the course of their partnership; most prominent were Monica and Talia. Both tall and brunette, with a little touch of the badass that Kensi took pride in. And now it was Nell and Eric- for being able to put work aside and put themselves first. How idiotic was that?

Now more annoyed than before, Kensi roughly reached for a cup and sent the stack flying across the stone floor. With a grumble, she bent down to pick them up, only to be faced with a pair of work boots.

"What did those poor cups ever do to you?" A familiar voice quipped.

Kensi shot straight back up just as rapidly as the plasticware had tumbled to the ground. "Deeks."

He ran a hand through his mop of blond hair and pointed towards the coffee machine. "Callen told me that you were making some."

"Yeah," Kensi nodded, shuffling her feet. Is this what they had come to? Making conversation about coffee? It was pathetic.

"So, um, how was your break?"

Sucky. Terrible. Three weeks of boredom.

"It was great. I got to spend some time with my mom."

"Good. That's good."

Kensi could see it in his eyes. He was feeling just as awkward as her. "Um, so I'll just," she bent down again and began picking up all the cups.

Deeks joined her not a moment later and said in a low voice, "We have to talk eventually, you know."

"Right," she admitted, putting her hands on her hips. "We'll just have to see if anything interrupts us this time."

The detective gave her a small smile, and suddenly Kensi felt a whole lot better. "Tonight?"

Kensi found herself returning the gesture weakly. This was Deeks. Things would be okay. "Tonight."

"Hey! You guys coming!?" Sam, who had entered while the partners were otherwise occupied, called. "Eric's got a case for us!"

Kensi and Deeks shared a look; the blond said, "Hopefully tonight."

* * *

"What do you have for us?" Kensi inquired as her and Deeks entered ops together. Granger was lurking in the shadows, a new favorite position of his since Hetty had been gone.

"Navy Ensign Erika Cardoza was reported missing by her friend aboard the U.S.S. Saratoga last night," Nell began. "It's currently docked in Los Angeles, and her and a couple of shipmates went out for a drink."

"Let me guess," Callen interrupted, "she left early because she didn't feel well and hasn't been seen since?"

"Precisely," Eric affirmed.

"Why they would go after Ensign Cardoza?" Sam asked. "She's young, the lowest officer rank, usually we see these kinds of things with older personnel."

"That's where her shipmates stopped cooperating," Nell explained. "Usually they would give it more time before involving us, but obviously they are under the impression that whoever took Erika Cardoza have more malicious intentions. So Eric and I did a little digging."

"We found that she graduated top of her class at Annapolis for naval engineering, which means that she would have access to designs of our aircraft carriers, subs, and more," Eric continued.

"The Navy wants Ensign Cardoza recovered as quickly as possible," Granger interrupted them. "They don't-"

"Found it!" Nell suddenly perked up. "There's a recording of the abduction off a security camera at a club called 8 Ball."

She pulled it up on screen. It was pretty crappy quality, but sure enough a darkened box truck pulled up beside Ensign Erika Cardoza and dragged her inside, kicking and screaming. Kensi's stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot as they watched it happen.

"Kensi and Deeks go talk to the club owner and see if anybody saw something that night," Callen ordered. "Sam and I will speak to Ensign Cardoza's shipmates about her latest projects."

* * *

"What do you make of this?" Deeks asked, turning down another street to get to the club.

"I think somebody wants to get our latest naval technology using Ensign Cardoza. If she's developing some major projects for the Navy, then any terrorist would want to get their hands on it." Kensi answered.

"I wasn't talking about that."

She rubbed her eyes. "We need to focus on the case, Deeks. The last time we didn't wasn't good for either of us."

The blond averted his eyes. "Right. It's just, we also didn't get to talk about the important stuff last time."

Kensi checked her watch. "We only have so many hours left in the workday. We'll get to talk."

Deeks smiled at her knowingly and didn't say anything as he steered the SRX over to the side of the road. "Okay. Case first then. Until tonight."

Kensi and Deeks got out of the car and made their way over to the club entrance. A bouncer waved them it at a flash of their badges, and a wall of blaring music immediately bombarded them. Of course, at this time in the day, the only activity were the employees mopping up from last night's celebrations.

"Can I help you?" A man walked over to them. He donned a tailored silk suit with several rings glittering on his fingers. Classic. "My name is George Carlson, I'm the owner of the club."

"Special Agent Kensi Blye and Detective Marty Deeks, NCIS. We need to ask you a few questions," Kensi introduced them.

"I need to call my lawyer before I answer any questions," he turned away from them just as fast as he appeared.

"Please sir, you're not in any trouble. We just need to know if you saw this woman here last night," Deeks handed him a photograph of Ensign Ericka Cardoza.

"She doesn't look familiar," Carlson said. "And I would know. We give fifty percent off to serving military."

"Her name is Ensign Cardoza, and she was kidnapped outside of your club last night. Do you remember seeing anything or hearing about anything?" Kensi prompted.

Carlson shrugged. "You'd have more luck talking to the bouncer working last night. He's probably out back having a smoke."

"Thank you."

Carlson showed them through the interior of the club and out into the docking bay where goods came in and out. He stopped following them and shut the door after the partners when he received a call on his phone.

Kensi took a brief look around. "No bouncer out here."

"Do you think he could have been posing as one?"

"Not likely. If this was staged, the kidnappers wouldn't have been able to predict if she would even walk that route at all. No, Cardoza was followed and then the opportunity was taken."

She was interrupted by a call on her cell from Callen.

"Hey Kens. We spoke to some of her crewmates. Apparently they were planning on going to 8 Ball last night instead of the other bar. It's not a coincidence. Also, Eric just called. It seems that the club recently hired two new employees named Trevor Harris and Greg Santhers. Sending you pictures now. Just keep an eye out."

"Okay, thanks Callen. Call us if you find anything else."

Kensi hung up and opened up the picture message of their two suspects. One was dark skinned and quite burly while the other was paler and less stocky. She help her phone so Deeks could see.

"Two new employees and Cardoza's outing was originally planned for this club. Looks like your theory was right after all."

"Let's go see what Carlson has to say about all of this," Deeks suggested.

"You go on, I'm going to call Nell and see if she has anything more on these guys."

Kensi was left alone as she dialed for her friend.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Can you pull any information on the two guys you and Eric found, Trevor Harris and Greg Santhers? We need to know what their connection is to Ensign Cardoza." Kensi began pacing back and forth in the back lot.

"Already ahead of you. Harris and Santhers were hired about a week ago…"

Kensi stopped paying attention to Nell when she noticed a white van concealed by a dumpster across the lot. Glancing to make sure she was alone, the brunette jogged across the asphalt towards it.

"…indicates they were only guns for hire. Now, Eric and I-"

"Nell, what was the license plate for the white van found on the recording?" Kensi interrupted her.

"There was none. The only distinguishing factor was a-"

"Broken taillight?" Kensi guessed, running a hand over said object.

"Yeah. Eric's been running it through Kaleidoscope, but no hits yet."

She turned to a vehicle next to the van that looked like an old police car completely painted over black. "What about a car with the license plate Romeo, Nine, Two, Six, Quebec, Kilo, Papa?"

"Doesn't sound familiar. I can review the tapes again. What, did you find something?"

Kensi opened her mouth to speak when she felt something cold jab into her side and remove her own gun from her waist band.

"Hang up the phone," a cool voice rasped in her ear.

Kensi did as she was asked, and cut off Nell from further communication.

"Drop it."

The phone clattered to the pavement and was promptly crushed by the man's foot. Looking into the rearview mirror of the truck, Kensi recognized Trevor Harris from the photograph Callen sent her.

"Turn around, slowly."

Again, she complied. The man had backed up a few feet to give her room, which of course didn't work in Kensi's favor.

"Who are you?"

Kensi didn't answer as a familiar mop of blond hair poked from behind the dumpster. Deeks emerged stealthily onto the scene with his gun poised. Her eyes flicked towards him, a mistake on her part. Harris just retook the last few steps me made and forced the gun to Kensi's temple.

"Drop your weapon, now!" Deeks ordered.

"I think not," Harris rebuked.

Another man, his accomplice Greg Santhers, came at Deeks's right from between the cars and the gun aimed at his torso.

Realizing he was out of options, Deeks lowered his Beretta and set it gently on the ground. Santhers fished some car keys out of his pocket and opened the trunk to the car that vaguely resembled a police car.

"Phone too. And smash it." Once Deeks had done that, Kensi's assailant spoke.

"Climb in or we shoot her," Harris ordered.

Deeks walked slowly over towards the vehicle and set one foot in. When Harris gestured him to continue, the blond shook his head. "Not without knowing she's not going to be harmed.

Frustrated and out of patience, Harris pushed Kensi into the trunk, carrying Deeks with her. The top was slammed shut on them before either could curse.


	2. No Good Option

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, so a few things before the second chapter. One- I am so sorry for the long wait. Concussion will do that to you. Headaches and lack of concentration…not exactly fun. That being said I hope this chapter is sufficient. Some of the other ones I posted today haven't been to my usual mediocre standards... Anyways, I just wanted to say I am blown away by the response this story got after a single chapter. With almost seventy follows since I posted it, I have high hopes. Please let me know what you think, it means the world to me! Sorry for the long note- on with the story!**

**-C**

Kensi experienced a brief bout of disorientation as they were left in total darkness in a tangle of limbs. At last she felt the rumble of the car and the taillights emitted a soft glow, barely illuminating the faces of the two agents. Deeks was lying right below her, pressed flush against her body.

"Well, this is comfortable," Deeks mumbled as they hit a bump in the road.

"Shut up, I'm trying to think!" Kensi snapped, trying to avoid resting her face on top of his.

"Release button?"

Kensi tried to hide the scowl for the fact that he was right. Immediately a huge smirk began growing on his face in the eerie light. To avoid looking at him, Kensi surveyed the compact area for the glowing button.

"Can't find it. How about you?"

"Well, considering the circumstances there's only about one thing I can really see right now."

The brunette tried to punch him in the shoulder, but it only caused her to slam her elbow against the top of the trunk. Muttering a curse, Kensi worked on the next best thing. She examined the tail lights, and saw that there was no metal frame surrounding them.

"I need to turn myself over and get my shoe off," Kensi said. She flipped over so her back was pressed up against Deeks's chest. With one foot, the she kicked off her other boot and knocked it into her hands.

"I have the better angle," Deeks informed her, immediately taking the footwear and slamming its heel against the plastic. He hit it time after time, but it had no sign of giving in. "Nothing," he concluded. "And your shoe is pretty much decommissioned."

"We have bigger problems than that!" Kensi exclaimed, banging her fists against the roof of the trunk.

"I realize that we're in a bit of a tough spot right now but you need to calm down, Kens."

She took a deep breath and tried to slow her breathing. Facts and scenarios from training about these situations ran through her head. The first thing was air. A person usually had twelve hours in a trunk before falling unconscious. That time frame would lessen depending on the heat and how big the trunk was in relation to the person's size. With two adults cramped together, that twelve hours would be significantly reduced.

"You need to move over as much as you can," Kensi said. "You and I can't get enough air stacked on top of each other like this."

Eventually they were in a more comfortable position, though their bodies were still pressed tightly up against each other.

"I'm more worried about the heat than us running out of air," Deeks answered. "It's at least a hundred degrees in here."

"Just try to breathe normally. When overheated, a person will respirate two to three times more, and we don't know how long we'll be in here."

"And there's my Wikipedia coming through again," Deeks quipped. He banged the top of the trunk, but rather quite pointlessly.

Kensi ignored this and tried to take as much note of everything as possible. They were stopping and starting, meaning that they weren't on the high way yet. Although a sudden increase in speed quickly changed her conclusions.

"We're on a freeway," her partner concluded. "Ever been in a situation like this before?"

"Not with somebody else with me."

"Glad I could provide the company."

"Yeah, this isn't quite an instance where I would want you with me."

They were thrown into silence, quite literally, as they hit a bump in the road. Kensi hit her head against the top, sending a flurry of curses from her lips.

"I think we're slowing down," Deeks whispered at last.

"And I think you're imagining things."

The car stopped.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up."

They turned onto another road, and made some turns, but it wasn't too long before they were stopped for a long time. At this point, the heat was unbearable. It was well over a hundred degrees in the compact space, and even Kensi was beginning to panic a little.

At last, the trunk was sprung open. The glaring Los Angeles sun kept her blinded for a moment. Kensi blinked against it, and when her vision finally cleared, was faced with a barrel of a gun.

"Out," a voice commanded.

Kensi held her hands in front of her as she climbed out of the stuffy trunk. The temperature was in the high eighties on that particular day, but it felt like air conditioning compared to the car.

Greg Santhers, Trevor Harris, and another man of Asian descent Kensi didn't recognize were standing there waiting for them. As soon as Deeks joined her on the pavement, they were ushered quite forcefully towards what looked like an abandoned club. Kensi made no attempt to conceal her looking around, although she couldn't spot any noticeable landmarks. Instead of heading into the main part of the building, they were forced up the stairs and into a second story loft.

Harris pushed open the door, revealing a scene much more gruesome than they originally thought would become of this case.

In the middle of the loft was Ensign Erika Cardoza, bound to a chair. She was bleeding heavily from several places, but most prominent was her head. It seemed to have swelled to one giant bruise. Perhaps even more eye-catching than Ensign Cardoza was a banner in a foreign script that Kensi immediately recognized as Korean.

"The North Koreans are behind this?" Kensi voiced aloud. She was shoved forward by Santhers from behind.

Immediately the two agents were swarmed by other assailants, who quickly forced them into separate chairs across from Erika Cardoza and secured their hands using zip-ties. If she was conscious enough to notice Kensi and Deeks's sudden arrival, she gave no indication.

There was quite a bit of shuffling around from the other people in the loft. Kensi counted about a dozen total, only about half North Korean and the other half American.

"That's why they want our ship technology," Kensi muttered to Deeks. "We've been putting pressure with our Navy on them."

There was a flurry of harsh Korean, but there was no translation needed for the message to be clear.

Deeks nodded, and turned his attention towards their other companion. "You alright, Ensign?"

When she didn't reply, Kensi concluded that she must have been unconscious. With a head wound like that, the brunette couldn't imagine how it would be any different. The unknown man who gave such the warm welcome sauntered over to Deeks and drove a hard punch to his stomach.

"We told you to shut up!"

The grunted, and then managed to wheeze, "Last time I checked, I don't speak Korean."

Deeks's attitude was rewarded with another blow to the jaw, and several more to his torso. Kensi flinched every time she heard the unmistakable sound of fist meeting his skin. As the apparent translator moved away from them, the brunette hissed, "Deeks, please just shut up."

"You don't have to tell me twice," he coughed.

Kensi kept her eyes on the bustling activity within the large room. People were scurrying around, packing away computers and files spread out on tables. There was no doubt in her mind that they were going to kill them as soon as they cleaned up shop.

However, that theory proved to be incorrect. As several minutes later, they were approached by three men plus the translator. Two of them were carrying a utility bucket between them, which they promptly dumped on top of Ensign Cardoza.

She sputtered awake, although she didn't look much better than before. One of her eyes was completely swollen shut and her wheezing was louder. The translator stood off to the side, as he man who appeared to be the leader overlooked.

"The blueprints we have acquired have proven to be incomplete." The translator held them up for emphasis, and then cast them aside. "Tell us what is missing from them, or we will kill her." He gestured towards the ensign.

Kensi didn't even take one glance at the file before defiantly raising her chin. "We're not military. You'll have a hard time finding information from us.'

"Yep. We're just measly law enforcement," Deeks quipped once more. One of the men who carried the bucket of water pistol-whipped the blond across the face.

Kensi couldn't help but roll her eyes. She knew what he was trying to do, taking the attention away from her. "Ignore my partner. He can be an idiot sometimes."

The leader said something to the translator.

He moved over towards Ensign Cardoza and yanked her head back. "Okay, Ensign. I'm going to offer you a deal. If you don't give us the information, then we'll kill them both. If you do, only one of the feds dies. Lessen the casualties, will you?"

The ensign's good eye flicked back and forth between the two. Kensi held her breath. Where were Callen and Sam with their backup?

Erika looked at them with resign in her gaze. She mouthed: I'm sorry.

"The rest of the blueprint can be found in my apartment. My bed frame has a false compartment underneath it. It's on a flash drive," Erika rasped, and then began coughing up drops of her own blood.

The translator turned to the two men. "Search her house again until you find it! I want it in an hour!"

Kensi searched Erika's eyes and discovered why she had given it up. She was dying. And once dead, there would be nothing stopping these miscreants from killing them- not that it would matter now anyway.

The translator moved behind the two agents, causing both of them to tense up. Deeks shot a look towards Kensi, blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. He put a hand on both of their shoulders, squeezing them tightly.

"I am a man of my word," he said.

Kensi tried not to squirm under the pressure of his nails into her skin. He moved over towards the brunette and ran his hands up and down her arms.

"Don't touch her!" Deeks protested, struggling against his bonds.

"You care for this one very much, this is evident," the translator teased him.

"Yeah? Cut me loose and you'll see how much I care about her!"

"Deeks," Kensi warned, although her gaze was following the translator's hands instead.

"You silly Americans," he spat. "You are no longer the mightiest power of this world. A new age is beginning. How should I kill her?"

"You won't get the chance!"

The next minute or so was filled with the sound of punches and strikes assaulting Deeks. He jabbed them with insults and sarcastic remarks in between grunts and groans. Kensi wanted to close her eyes and block out any image of Deeks being hurt, but somehow she couldn't.

Blood was pouring from his nose, and several new bruises were already forming.

"How about snapping her neck?" The translator offered.

Deeks struggled with all his might against the zip-ties, but it was useless. The translator slid his cold hands up to Kensi's cheeks briefly, before moving one under her chin and the other on top of her head.

"No!" Deeks screamed, just as the translator applied the necessary pressure.


	3. I Am Not Afraid

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you again to everybody who followed and favorite this story! I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter- it took me several days to write it 0.0 Anyways, please, please, PLEASE review with any suggestions or corrections or comments. Love you all!**

**-C**

* * *

Deeks wasn't completely sure how, but something knocked him sideways about the same time the windows exploded inwards and smoke began pulsing through the vicinity. He struggled against his bonds as mass panic sent the North Koreans fleeing for cover. Although the zip-ties weren't allowing for much give, his watering eyes and poisoned lungs weren't helping the process.

"Kensi!" He rasped above the commotion.

Soon the overwhelming, gray cloud surrounded his entire body, concealing everything more than a few inches away from his face. Deeks pushed himself to his knees. Beams of light penetrated through the thick, and suddenly, at least in his heads, things began to be clearer.

Smoke bombs. A favorite of the LAPD on raids. Wonderful.

Bullets whizzed left and right, sending Deeks to take cover flat against the ground. His positioning was bad enough to give any training officer a heart attack. When there was a brief pause in a burst of gunfire, Deeks pushed himself off the ground a few inches again.

"Kens?" He tried again, trying to feel out the area with his leg.

"Marty, stay down!"

The person who called out shoved their hand on top of his head and forced him into the floor once more. Even though the smoke was beginning to evacuate from the room, things were getting more and more confusing. Deeks was able to see a few men in LAPD SWAT uniforms making arrests or sweeping the area. Why wasn't NCIS there?

Deeks blinked the tears caused by the smoke from his eyes and spotted a familiar brunette lying lifeless on her side.

"Kensi!" He lunged for her, but the zip-ties holding him to the chair held him back. "Cut me loose! Cut me loose!"

His desperate demands were met not nearly fast enough for him before he scrambled across the room towards Kensi. She was still tied to the chair, and wasn't moving. Deeks screamed for a knife but was too impatient to wait for it. He curled his fingers around the closest shard of glass and cut through the zip-ties as if they were made of butter.

Deeks brushed his fingers against her pale skin, his heart beating a million miles per hour. The few seconds before the LAPD began barging in came rushing back; suddenly he couldn't breathe.

"Kens?" His voice cracked. Deeks pulled her head into his lap, feeling warm sticky blood underneath his fingers that he knew didn't come from picking up the glass. His hand trembling, he sought a pulse. For a scary moment, there was no sign of life beating back against his fingers. Then there it was. Racing and not strong, but still there.

His eyes lifted away from Kensi's face briefly and watched the continuous whirlwind of activity. By now, all weapons had been holstered and the last remains of smoke had vanished. As a SWAT officer was carting one of the North Koreans through the doorway (the door had been blown off in the raid), a familiar pair of agents came charging in.

A little late to the party, Sam and Callen had finally arrived. As soon as they spotted Kensi and Deeks at the far end of the loft, they came hustling over.

"What happened?" Sam asked, kneeling down next to Kensi.

Deeks couldn't find the words. "They were about t-to…." He swallowed, "break her neck when LAPD came, but she's still breathing."

The Navy SEAL gently moved Deeks out of the way to examine Kensi. He felt up and down her neck as well as where the blood was. When Sam breathed a sigh of relief, the detective was also able to let go of a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Kensi hit her head on the ground when she fell. She'll be okay."

As if on cue, a groan tore Deeks's attention from Sam to Kensi. Her eyes fluttered open, but they were cloudy and disoriented. She blinked against the light with another grumble of pain.

"Kens?" Deeks prompted her from her fogginess.

Her mismatched eyes darted around as if it were impossible to focus on a single thing. At last her gaze settled on Deeks's eyes before squeezing them shut again.

"Owww," she mumbled through tightly pressed lips.

"What hurts?" Sam asked as he waved a paramedic over.

Kensi opened a single eye. "My neck's okay…I think. It's my head that's killing me."

"You still need to be checked out," the paramedic insisted. "Can you walk down some stairs?"

"She's gonna try," Callen chuckled.

Kensi nodded, proving G's prediction. She lifted her head off of Deeks's lap and rested in a sitting position. Sam and Deeks took her on either side and hoisted her up slowly.

"I'm fine," she protested and shook them off easily.

Kensi made it about two steps before she fell of balance, Deeks just barely saving her from falling again.

"I'll go get the stretcher then," the paramedic said.

"What happened to you guys?" Callen inquired. "We're interviewing Cardoza's shipmates and suddenly we get a concerned call from Nell."

"Trevor Harris, Greg Santhers, and one uncomfortable car ride in a trunk later, here we stand," Kensi explained hastily. "We know why the Ensign went missing at least."

Only a few yards away, Erika was being tended to by several emergency medical technicians. Not a moment later the paramedic returned with a friend and a stretcher. Kensi scowled at the sight of it, but both Deeks and Sam forced her onto it.

"I'll ride with her," the detective stated as they began to maneuver Kensi through the burned out doorway.

Sam shook his head. "We need you at the boatshed for debriefing. Nobody knows for sure what's going on here. I know Nell would be more than happy to keep Kensi company at the hospital."

Deeks wanted to fight it. After coming so close to losing Kensi, he wouldn't be comfortable with leaving her alone for some time to come. Not that she couldn't protect herself; his instinctive nature overruled all when it came to one Kensi Marie Blye.

"Fine," he grumbled.

* * *

"The North Koreans were behind this?" Granger asked for about the billionth time. And Deeks was growing more and more impatient with each passing second.

He rubbed his eyes then obnoxiously checked his watch. It was already four o'clock, several hours since their recovery. "As I mentioned before, yes. They wanted our technology to expose the ships keeping them in check along their borders."

Granger nodded. "You can go."

Deeks grabbed his jacket and had his fingers brush the doorknob before the Assistant Director called him back.

"Detective-"

"Sir, with all due respect, my partner and best friend nearly died today," he interrupted solemnly. "I really just want to go make sure she's okay."

Granger paused, before an expression unfamiliar to Deeks' eyes passed over him. Understanding.

"It can wait until tomorrow."

Finally released from the pains of verbal debriefing, Deeks practically fled from the boatshed. He hurried to his car where he turned on his phone to see if he received any messages from Nell. There were two missed calls and one text a half hour before reading:

**Kensi has a bad concussion. I'm taking her home.**

Deeks let out a long breath and turned the key in the ignition. He had almost lost her- again. It was bad in Afghanistan. The detective knew from the first night she was gone that her life would be in worse danger twenty four hours out of the day. But this was supposed to be an easy case. Open and shut.

They promised each other to talk. Tonight, the next day, whatever the time frame might have been, it was one they didn't have.

And Deeks was pretty damn tired of risking that.

* * *

Deeks let himself into the apartment, careful about how much noise he caused. He knew all too well how the simplest of sounds or lights would lead to excruciating headaches when having a concussion.

Nell met him almost immediately, pressing a finger to her lips urgently. Eric poked his head out from the kitchen as well.

"How is she?" Deeks whispered.

The petite woman pointed towards the couch where a mound was curled tightly in blankets. "Asleep. You can't let her sleep for too long though, so be prepared for a long night."

"Yeah, I know the drill all too well. Are you leaving or something?"

Nell shifted uncomfortably. "Eric bought us nonrefundable tickets to a show. I hate to leave but I know she's in capable hands."

Deeks winked and watched the two of them leave without another word. He smiled sadly. At least Eric and Nell were able to sort through their thing.

He shoved his keys in the pocket and walked over to the couch. Several take out dishes were strewn across the cluttered coffee table, and Deeks could immediately tell that Kensi had Top Model on when Eric and Nell weren't looking by the remote still in her hand.

Deeks chuckled as the remote tumbled from her limp fingers. He began picking up the trash and clutter surrounding the coffee table. Just when his hands were full and he was pulling away from the table, suddenly something wrapped around his wrist.

"Don't go," Kensi whispered, her eyes closing again.

The detective put the garbage in his hands down and sat next to her on the couch so that her head was next to his thigh.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like absolute crap," Kensi admitted. "I've become an Advil junkie and I feel as if a drill is cracking my skull open."

"And watching Top Model probably doesn't help."

She smiled weakly and eyes lifted to his. "Concussions are boring."

"That, and you just suck at following the doctor's orders."

Kensi moved her head so it rested on top of his leg and pulled the blanket even further up her body. Her heavy, tired breaths tickled Deeks even through the jeans he was wearing. He didn't dare even twitch to cause more unnecessary jolts to her brain.

Her smile faltered as she said, "It could have been worse. You saw what that psycho was about to do."

"Kens-"

"The only other time I felt so powerless was in Afghanistan," she continued quietly. "And for a few minutes that sent me back to a really dark place."

Deeks unconsciously began running a hand soothingly through her tumbling brunette locks. "I was scared for you today."

"Well I was too," Kensi insisted. "I thought they weren't gonna stop hitting you."

"I didn't come close to dying."

The words left a hanging chill in the air that neither one knew how to defrost.

"I can't help thinking that the next time we promise to talk 'tonight' we won't get the chance. Something's going to get in the way," Kensi murmured.

"Well I hope something like today won't happen all the time," Deeks reasoned darkly.

"We should talk."

He chuckled, "Isn't that what we're doing right now.

Kensi sat up and took one of his hands in both of hers. "I'm not joking around Deeks."

Instead of responding with words, the blond responded with action. With his hands intertwined with Kensi's, he leaned forward a stole a quick kiss from her lips.

"I trust us to figure this out. I'm not scared anymore, Kens. I care too much about you to let you go."

Kensi gave his hand a squeeze, and met him in the middle for a sweet kiss. Deeks's hands soon moved to cup her cheek before she abruptly pulled away.

"Still have a concussion, Deeks."

He smiled softly and planted a peck on top of her head. "I'll go get some ice-cream."

"That would be nice," she agreed, before kissing him once more.


End file.
